Convenience Factor
by In Dreams
Summary: Harry and Hermione are known to the Hogwarts population as the perfect couple. It's lucky that none of them know she spends each night in the bed of Draco Malfoy.


** Convenience Factor**

**Author's Note:** This is a quick one-shot that popped into my head and begged to be written. It could probably be extended but won't, partially due to my own laziness. Please review, let me know what you think.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing related to Harry Potter or J.K. Rowling. I just play with the characters when I feel like it.

**Summary:** Harry and Hermione are known to the Hogwarts population as "the perfect couple." It'slucky that none of them know she spends each night in the bed of Draco Malfoy.

**Rating:** M for sexual content and adult language.

* * *

Hermione Granger entered the Hogwarts' Great Hall for breakfast one morning, a spring in her step. She took a seat on the Gryffindor bench next to Harry, leaning in to kiss his cheek, a murmured "good morning".

"Hey," Harry replied, taking her hand with his. He observed her dark eyes. "How did you sleep?"

"Not well, I'm afraid," she confessed, biting her lip. "I am _entirely _unprepared for the Charms examination after lunch today. I haven't mastered the disillusionment charm over long distances yet, and I keep forgetting how many years it took to finalize the incantation."

"It took _years_?" Ron spluttered, lowering his slice of toast in shock.

"Yes, a large committee of very indecisive wizards worked on it." She scrunched up her nose in thought. "I wish I could remember."

"I doubt we even need to know that," Harry said reassuringly. His words seemingly did nothing for Hermione's weak appetite however, and she claimed she was unable to force any breakfast down before the bell for classes rang.

As Hermione stood, her eyes met a pair of amused grey ones. She shot the owner a tentative smile, and he winked back at her inconspicuously.

"Hey, I'll catch up with you two in potions?" she asked. "I've got to speak with Malfoy about the next prefects meeting." Harry frowned.

"I wish you didn't have to spend so much time with Malfoy this year. I still can't believe Dumbledore's put the two of you in separate commons," Harry said quietly, concern evident in his bright green eyes.

"It's really not that bad, Harry. Since the war he's been quite decent actually, and he's hardly ever around." She smiled up at him, scowl still prominent on his features. "_Really_. I'll see you in a bit."

She turned away, and spotting a flash of blond hair, walked in the opposite direction, trying her hardest not to look as if she were running. Merlin forbid one of the professors seeing her run through the halls.

She caught up with him in an unused hallway leading to the dungeons.

"You're a piece of work Granger, did you know?" he asked as soon as she was within hearing distance. "I overheard you at breakfast. I doubt they knew we haven't even studied the disillusionment charm all term."

"Apparently not," she answered, laughing.

"Then how they believed you actually failed to understand a spell." He grinned, "although I have to commend your factual lies. The committee worked for 43 years, by the way." She met his eyes, lips curved into a smirk representative of the blond's influence.

"I know." Her brown eyes danced with mirth. "It would seem that Harry and Ron aren't the only ones I have the capability to fool."

"I," he began, pausing as he realized he'd been defeated. "I _knew _that." His tone was spiteful. "I was merely reminding you, in case you had truly been disillusioned and forgotten once more in the past five minutes."

"Give up, Draco," she said softly, smiling widely once more. "You've lost. Admit it."

He stopped walking, assessing her closely. She too froze abruptly, tilting her head as she tried to interpret his thoughts.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"I'm trying to decide," he began, tearing his eyes away. "If I want to kiss you badly enough to risk it in this open hallway."

"Oh," she breathed, the smile falling from her face. The second bell rang, signaling the start of class. "We're late."

"Yeah," he muttered, emerging from his temporary trance. He began to walk next to her again. "Right. I'd forgot you don't like me saying things like that in public, because you have a _boyfriend_." The word was said mockingly.

"Let's not get into this right now," she stated, spoiling the atmosphere. They arrived at the potions lab. Hermione muttered an excuse and took a seat between Harry and Ron, drawing her quill and parchment from her bag and began to copy the notes.

"Everything alright?" Harry whispered, and she looked up to the side. She nodded and he grinned, turning back to his own paper.

She paired with Harry to make the potion, while Ron worked with Lavender. Hermione's shoulder brushed against Draco's accidentally as she was picking up her ingredients. He turned, opening his mouth to speak when Harry walked up.

"Herms, did you get that changed measurement for the goldfish tongues?"

Draco's mouth fell shut, his lips pursed.

"I got it before I left the table, Harry," she replied, her tone holding a bite to it. She wasn't sure whether she was upset over Harry's dependency or Draco's stubbornness, so she turned from them both, carrying the ingredients back to her and Harry's cauldron.

At lunch she was still feeling rather uptight so she avoided the great hall, intending to get some transfiguration homework done in the Heads common room. As she was finishing the first foot of parchment the door opened and she looked up. Draco walked in and paused when he saw her, taking a seat on the couch.

"Hey," she muttered, continuing her essay.

"Hey. You haven't eaten anything all day." He didn't meet her eyes.

"I haven't been hungry; I'll eat something in my free period." She glanced back up at him, smiling. "I can take care of myself, Draco."

"'Course you can," he replied absently. "Look, I apologize for making you uncomfortable earlier. It wasn't my place."

"Don't. It also isn't my place to be angry." She paused, sighing. "It was the truth."

She set her quill aside, walking over to sit next to him.

"I think I'm having an off day." She gave him a wry smile.

"You're too stressed. NEWTs are still two months away. You need to unwind," he advised, smirking.

"I bet you think you can help me with that," she said softly. She lifted a hand to his sculpted jaw, sliding into his shaggy blond hair. Her eyes fluttered shut as she pressed her lips to his, excited by the immediate response. Their tongues met, their hands exploring one another. Hermione shifted for better access, drawn into the passion that was Draco Malfoy.

He pulled away first, resting his forehead on hers, their breaths mingling.

"What are we doing?" he whispered, meeting her eyes.

"I've no idea," she admitted. "We never _just_ snog, Draco."

"I know," he reminded her. His hands were still gripping her tightly.

"It's just friendly sex, isn't it?" She questioned, biting her lip. "I mean, that's what we said it was when it started."

"That's what it was _supposed_ to be." They both fell silent for a moment.

"Okay, so no more spontaneous kisses?" she asked.

"Hey, _you_ kissed _me_." He pulled away from her.

"I know," she groaned, leaning back against the couch.

"It's alright, now we know not to let it happen again. Sex only," he reasoned and she breathed a sigh in relief.

"Good. I'll see you tonight then." She stood up, gathering her books and he followed suit. "Your room or mine?"

"Mine's a mess," he admitted, smirking.

"Mine it is." She held out a hand to him and he shook it, clearly amused. She hurried out of the common room ahead of him and he shook his head, suppressing a laugh at her antics.

* * *

Hermione allowed herself to be distracted in History of Magic that afternoon. The sun was out and she was next to the window, and that coupled with her interesting lunch hour was hindering her concentration. 

She was confused. The relationship she had with Draco was certainly very odd. When seventh year had began the pair had seemed to make an unspoken agreement to co-operate. There were no insults, no arguments, but plenty of silence. He spent the majority of his time outside of their shared common room, instead seeking the library. It was ironic that Hermione had the same plans, and they ended up seeing each other more at the library than their living quarters.

Still, they didn't speak. Hermione started dating Harry around Christmas time. She expected the blond Slytherin to finally break down and insult her judgment or the like, but he did no such thing.

It was the end of January when it happened. Draco had betrayed his father and joined the order, allowing himself to be removed from the Malfoy family tree, and giving up his inheritance. He hadn't been home since, but he expected himself to be no more than a small round burn mark on the family tapestry.

For Hermione, it had been a far stretch. She had been skeptical, requiring solid evidence of the change. She received it when Draco successfully warned the Order of everything he knew, which led to the light side being prepared for the strike of the dark.

Harry had narrowly defeated Lord Voldemort, after managing some spectacularly advanced magic on his nemesis. Dumbledore himself, along with Moody and the rest of the Order had been giving him lessons on dueling.

Not even Harry and Ron could deny that Draco had probably saved their lives by his inside information. The day after the war Hermione came across Draco in their common room; they had been given the next week of classes off in respect to those who had passed. She had walked up to him, silent, and wrapped her arms around his neck tightly. She held on for longer than was necessary, but Draco hesitantly wrapped his own arms around her, pretending not to notice as her tears soaked his shoulder.

She pulled away, lightly pressing her lips to his cheek. No words were spoken, but he understood clearly. _Thank you_.

Two weeks later, Hermione's life was getting back to normal. She had been having a bad day; she lost a completed essay and was given late marks, she had a fight with Harry, and was generally nostalgic, as she kept recalling her friends who had been lost in the battle. By the time she reached the common room that evening, she was ready to break down.

Draco had been there, and she struck up a conversation, if for no more reason than to keep her sanity level. Before she knew it they were talking like long-time acquaintances, one might go so far as to say friends. He had made her smile and laugh truly for the first time since before the last battle.

As they walked towards the dorms at the end of the evening, she hugged him goodnight. When she moved away he didn't, instead meeting her eyes honestly. She too felt no great desire to move out of his arms, and was sent reeling with shock when his lips brushed against hers.

The intensity of the past two weeks hit her unexpectedly at once then, and she forgot about everything except that present moment, the blond she hardly knew who was currently kissing her as if his life was dependent on the activity. She lost herself in his grey eyes and found herself awake the next morning in a foreign bed, in the arms of one Draco Malfoy.

As surprised and regretful as she should have felt, she instead felt comfortable. She harboured very little guilt, throwing off her own subconscious. She still couldn't quite determine why she didn't feel as if she had wronged Harry in any way. Perhaps it was becauseDraco made her feel as if she were highly important, something Harry had always been lacking slightly.

His eyes snapped open as she shifted positions, meeting hers. His mouth opened to speak, but he eventually gave up. She sent him a fleeting smile, quickly dressing and leaving his room. They didn't mention it then, but found themselves in a very similar situation two mornings later.

Draco had been the one to propose the current arrangement they now held; a type of way to help each other after tiresome days. Somewhere along the line it had turned into a nightly habit. Hermione had told no one, not even Ginny, though not out of fear. What she had with Draco was something to discuss with only him. She wasn't too sure if anyone else deserved to know.

Again, Hermione wondered why she felt no guilt, or maybe why she didn't revert to a mere friendship with Harry. But her relationship with him was going well enough, and Draco had no particular qualms with it, as long as she didn't allow Harry to touch her as he did. She had never told him, but she didn't know if she'd trust the boy-who-lived with her body anyway.

The other part of the deal was to avoid physical contact outside of the bedroom, to keep their emotions from running too wild in the situation. Hermione asked herself what had changed once more. Why she had kissed him at lunch with no intentions of getting from him what she usually took. Even this morning he had admitted he wanted to kiss her in the hallway.

The bell rang signifying the end of the period, for Hermione a welcome escape from the drone of Professor Binns.

She found however, that with her mind free from distraction, there was nothing stopping the rampant thoughts of Draco Malfoy from continuing. Hermione had her free period next, and by the time supper came around she was frustrated that he was still in her head.

She was able only to pick at her dinner, hardly wishing to eat at all. She ignored her insistent stomach rumbling and stood up from the table, gathering her books and turning to leave the hall. As she spun around she unwillingly met a pair of unblinking grey eyes focused intently on her.

She tried to ignore him, but could sense he was still watching her as she walked past the Slytherin table, aiming for the doors.

His eyes darkened as he watched her, clearly disapproving. He mouthed the word 'eat' at her, and she shook her head. The last thing she needed right now was to lose her stomach, which was seeming quite likely if she didn't lie down. She was feeling far too overwhelmed.

"Malfoy, I don't suppose we should meet tonight. I'm feeling rather ill," she stated formally as she passed him.

"What's tonight?" Harry asked curiously as he walked up behind her, sliding his hand into hers. She flinched in slight irritation at his eavesdropping.

"Granger and I were going to patrol the halls this evening," Draco lied easily, looking bored with the situation. "I imagine she's merely skirting her duties once more. Or perhaps she'd rather just spend the night in the Gryffindor dormitories." He met her eyes, and she flinched once more at the coldness of his insinuation.

"Or maybe, I genuinely feel unwell. Did you stop to think that I actually tell the truth on most occasions?" She felt the anger rise in her. He _knew_ she wouldn't sleep with Harry.

"Did _you_ think that maybe you'd feel just fucking _fine_ if you weren't so set on starving yourself?" he shot back, his temper flared. "Because just possibly, some people care about your well being?"

At the raised eyebrows of Harry and several nearby Slytherins he quickly covered his tracks. "Like _Potter_. Fucking Gryffindors." At this he stood up, taking his own exit from the hall, leaving Hermione shocked. She allowed Harry to walk her to the Gryffindor dormitories, dazedly taking a seat in front of the fire. What exactly had the Slytherin just admitted to downstairs?

Harry wrapped an arm around her shoulders and she leaned back, her eyes falling shut. She temporarily forgot where she was and who she was with, imagining herself to be in the arms of a certain blond instead. She leaned closer to taste his soft lips, not allowing herself to care about any details at the moment.

The kiss seemed to be lacking the usual flawless quality it had and she opened her eyes in confusion. When she saw instead dark hair and green eyes, she jumped away, frightened.

"Harry, I... I've got to go," she muttered, hurrying out of the portrait, leaving him clueless.

Once outside of the dorms, she leaned against the wall, breathing heavy. She lifted a shaking hand to her lips, trying to hold back a tear. She slammed her head back into the stone in frustration, overcome by dizziness as she shut her eyes, stabilizing herself against the wall.

_Does your conscience ever get to you?_ he had asked her once as they were drifting to sleep, his arms securely around her. It had been as if he were sincerely curious. As if he were wondering how a conscience worked. And yet, she knew he had one of his own.

She hadn't known how to reply. She'd been asking herself the same question, wondering why she felt more natural with Draco than Harry. She'd been best friends with Harry for more than six years. Of course, she wouldn't admit that to him. It would be like screaming out her slightly more than neutral feelings for him. Feelings which she wasn't even sure existed.

_Why do you ask?_ She had asked back, avoiding the question. _It's not as if it matters to you._

_I guess not._ He pressed his lips to her collarbone; she passed it off as a simple meaningless action. The truth was, she found it hard to feel bad about something she so craved. And honestly, she loved having him inside her, loved his flesh to hers. Yet, she loved having a boyfriend. Or maybe it was the image.

The whole of Hogwarts saw her and Harry as a perfect, happy couple. She had never been the centre of such positive attention, and she enjoyed it. She'd always been known as a study-crazed bookworm. It was sometimes nice for people to see her as something slightly more... human. She knew Draco Malfoy wasn't the dating type. Some things never change, and his bad boy attributes were one of them.

Unknowingly, she allowed a tear to fall. As it slid down her cheek, her eyes snapped open, her fingers quickly moving to wipe away the stray droplet of moisture. As gratifying as it would feel to allow herself an emotional breakdown, it wouldn't help her.

She bit her lip, hard enough to remind her own brain of its capabilities, as she straightened up, pulling in any need to cry. She could talk to him, couldn't she? Neither of them truly meant what they said at dinner, at least she hoped. He had seemed realistically angry. She sometimes found his offensively worded anger to be intimidating.

They were just words, weren't they? Her eyes flashed. She could use his type of language if she had to, couldn't she?

"Fuck, yes I can," she said out loud to herself, flushing pink as the portrait scolded her. She quickly apologized, racing away.

* * *

He ran a hand through his already messy blond hair, leaning against the mantle. He sighed loudly in aggravation, taking to pacing the room once more. 

He hadn't _really_ meant for her to run off and hide out with Potter doing Merlin knows what. He had been too harsh on her to expect her to remain faithful in her unfaithfulness to him. He had been irritated that she wasn't eating once more; she hadn't eaten anything all day and he could tell it was taking a toll on her health.

_Why_ she wasn't eating was a whole different issue to him. She was by far one of the skinniest girls he knew, borderline on too thin.

He wasn't sure how he'd deal if she didn't come back to the dorms, or if she were too angry with him to follow through with their night-time standard. He knew it would be a long, restless night; he had grown to depend on her presence as he fell asleep each night.

He threw himself down on the couch in front of the fire, shutting his eyes tightly. He opened them once more as he felt the seat next to him move. He looked over to see a determined brunette beside him.

"We need to talk, Draco," she said quietly, meeting his gaze. He rolled his eyes at the cliched phrase. "If you don't want to we won't." She stood to leave as he grabbed her hand, tugging her back down.

"Of course I want to talk."

"I'd prefer it if you didn't manhandle me like that," she said stiffly. He raised an eyebrow.

"Should I assume you meant it when you called tonight off?" His tone was soft, and she looked away.

"I'm not sure." She bit her lip once more. "If it were merely a matter of wanting to or not, I'd hope you wouldn't need to ask. You know how we promised each other we'd keep our emotions out of this? Bodies only?"

He nodded, leaning in to press his lips to her neck. She allowed him to continue, against her better judgement.

"I've got a bit of a confession to make," she muttered. Her breath caught in her throat as he bit down hard on the skin of her neck, marking it. He pulled back, meeting her eyes.

"What kind of confession might that be?" he asked in a low drawl, and she looked away, nervous.

"I think," she paused, taking a deep breath. "I might have broke that promise."

He lifted a hand to tilt her face, forcing her to meet his gaze. His lips slightly parted, he stared at her as if she were insane.

"So I think," she continued, moving away from his intoxicating proximity, "we should stop this. Nothing can be achieved from kidding ourselves any further."

He pulled her towards him once more, resting his forehead on hers. "Why not?" he breathed. At her raised eyebrows he cleared his throat, shaking his head. "Why can't anything come of this?"

"Draco, you knew this couldn't last. It was more a joke than anything," she reasoned, unable to move away. His lips were so tantalizing and close.

"Does your heart usually involve itself in your jokes?" he asked, interested.

"Don't do this," she whispered, shutting her eyes tightly to escape his. "It doesn't work; I've got a boyfriend."

"So?" he asked quietly. "So bloody what, Hermione? Are you married to the bloke?"

"I–" she began, before he cut her off once more.

"Tell me you don't _love_ what we have," he demanded. He leaned in to crush her lips with his, pulling back before she could respond, licking his lips subconsciously. "You want to know why that's so phenomenal?"

"Why?" she asked, throat dry.

"Because," he said, as if explaining something to a toddler. His hands fidgeted with her loose curls. "There's something _there_. Something more than just sex."

"All you want is sex," she choked, unable to look at him.

"When did I ever say that?" he asked her simply. His statement unhinged her and she froze.

"I always just assumed..." she lost her train of thought.

"You assumed, as a dirty Slytherin, that I couldn't change who I am as a person?" He stared at her in disbelief. "Hermione, have you seen me at all this year?"

"Of course I have," she scoffed. "I see you every night, more of you than most people see, and that's all I typically see. What did you expect me to think?"

"I expected you to use that brain of yours, to see deeper. I'm not interested in only your body, Hermione." She finally lifted her eyes to his once more. So much for bravery. "I want your trust, I want you to believe in me. You've given me your body, and I can't deny I'd never turn that down, but if it were in exchange for your heart, I'd trade in an instant."

"What are you saying Draco?" she asked softly. He laughed darkly, burying his face in her neck.

"I respect you," he began. "You know that. You're brilliant, honest, gorgeous, excellent at basically everything..." She flushed at his compliments. "You deserve whatever you want. Potter can't give you what you need."

"And you can?" she retorted.

He shrugged. "I can sure as hell try, can't I?"

"You don't date, Draco," she stated. "This isn't a relationship, you realize."

"It _is_," he replied matter-of-factly, "just not the type you're looking for. Just because I don't date doesn't mean I'm physically incapable."

"Harry would never understand." She sighed. His words held so much promise, but he clearly hadn't thought this through.

"What's the issue here? His acceptance or your happiness? Trust me, Hermione," he continued, "if I was following the same rules as you about emotion I would've wanted to put a stop to this a while ago."

Hermione took a deep breath before his words could hit her too hard. What would Harry and Ron say if she broke up with Harry to date Draco? She'd never been a good liar; they might get the details from her, and they'd be angry to say the least.

At the same time, what might it be like? Draco was offering what she had occasionally thought about. He gave her comfort and excitement, something Harry had been lacking. She already knew how amazing he could make her feel. She looked up into his grey eyes, allowing an inner smile. As a bonus, the popular opinion rendered him the most attractive man in Hogwarts.

"You still want to back out on tonight?" he whispered in her ear. She bit her lip, shaking her head. He grinned, taking her hand and lifting her to her feet. "Fantastic." He could hardly get her to her room quick enough, kicking the door shut behind him.

"Do me a favour," he muttered in between kisses, his fingers already set to work on her school uniform.

"Uh huh?" she asked, distracted. He pulled away from his task momentarily, breathing heavy.

"Don't block yourself, alright?" he asked. "Don't stop yourself from feeling anything you want to feel. You can let me know your decision after." He smirked, continuing his work on her clothing.

She nodded, already knowing full well there was only one way she could go. The true choice was whether or not she would tell Harry about Draco or if she would pretend it was a recent acquisition. She could think on that another time. Preferably when a certain delectable blond wasn't intent on having her. Train of thought abandoned.


End file.
